I was completely immersed in my memories of the trip I took to Denver with Hunter six years ago. However, something interrupted my thoughts, and my expression of surprise took over me.
I stood paralyzed in front of a sight that didn't match the memories I carried. There was something wrong there, a discrepancy that messed with my mind. Hunter had brought me here several times, but what I saw in front of me didn't make sense.
The abandoned hut that used to be our retreat was unrecognizable. In place of the modest wooden structure I had in my memory, now stood an imposing wooden house, surrounded by the vastness of the forest. I blinked many times, trying to understand what was happening. Was my mind playing tricks on me? Was I going crazy?
I looked around, perplexed, questioning if my memory had failed me. I knew the way by heart, but the house in front of me didn't match my recollections. I began to doubt myself, wondering if I was in the right place.
That's when the front door of the house opened, revealing a tall, muscular man. He was wearing a V-neck t-shirt and black jeans, and his salt-and-pepper brown hair was perfectly trimmed, with a well-groomed beard framing his face. His honey-colored eyes gleamed with an intensity I immediately recognized. Hunter.
He approached with confident steps, and his piercing gaze ran up and down me. I couldn't help but notice that, despite the time that had passed, he hadn't changed much. His face was a masterpiece of masculinity, and the familiarity of his human form brought a flood of memories.
“Hello, Fierce,” he said, his deep voice echoing in the air. It was like music to my ears, a melody I thought I'd never hear again. “Welcome back.”
But I couldn't accept this strange reality. I looked around once more, questioning if I had truly forgotten the way. Was it possible that I was in the wrong place? Hunter hadn't changed, but the house was a mystery.
Finally, I found my voice and looked directly at him. “What happened to the hut, Hunter?”
He raised an eyebrow, as if intrigued by my question, and then explained, “The hut caught fire six years ago. Curious, isn't it? It was when you left, and many in the pack believe that you caused the fire.”
I looked at him, incredulous. The idea that anyone would think I could harm the pack, even indirectly, was disturbing. I replied firmly, “I would never do such a thing, Hunter.”
He approached, his honey-colored eyes watching me closely, and asked seriously, “Are you so sure about that?”
My anger grew at the insinuation. I would never harm something that meant so much to our pack. “I would never hurt anyone, let alone the hut. It was important to all of us.”
Hunter continued to gaze at me, and his voice took on a more solemn tone as he said, “You were able to hurt us, Fierce, by leaving the pack without looking back. You left Alastair heartbroken, and my heart shattered when you left.”
My expression hardened, and I retorted, “You broke my heart first, Hunter, when you rejected me.”
Hunter stared at me with surprise written on his face, his golden eyes blinking several times, as if processing my words. I wasn't afraid to confront the past, and it seemed like it was time to let the truth come to light, no matter how painful it might be.
“It's best not to talk about the past,” Hunter finally murmured, looking away.
The seriousness of his words made me look at him with the same seriousness. It was hard to ignore the weight of the past, but maybe it was the best decision. “You're right. The past is the past.”
Hunter took a step to the side, making room for me to enter the house that had replaced our burned hut. I followed him through the front door, and what I found inside left me speechless.
The rooms of the house were spacious and well-appointed, completely different from the modest hut I remembered. Modern furniture and top-of-the-line appliances filled the space, and I was amazed by the changes. There were two living rooms, a huge kitchen that looked like it came out of a home decor magazine, and all I saw was proof that Hunter's life had changed dramatically.
“This is... amazing,” I murmured, looking around. “The hut was never like this.”
Hunter gave a slight smile, looking proud of the changes. “Yes, after the hut caught fire, I decided to make the house the way I always wanted it. Spacious, with everything we need, especially when we're in our wolf form.”
He led me to the second floor, where the bedrooms were equally impressive. Pine furniture, private en-suites, and cozy sitting areas made me realize how much effort Hunter had put into this project. He opened the door to one of the rooms and turned to me.
“Here, you can store your things,” he suggested.
I looked at the empty room and shook my head, realizing I'd have to go back to my car to get my bags. “I'll do that tomorrow,” I admitted. “I'm too tired to worry about it right now.”
Hunter rolled his eyes, seeming slightly annoyed by my lack of enthusiasm to move my things. “You could just shift into a wolf and bring them quickly.”
I smiled awkwardly and decided to tell a little lie to avoid shifting at that moment. “You know, I'm really exhausted. Maybe tomorrow morning.”
Hunter huffed, but before he could respond, he howled loudly, making me blink in surprise. In the ensuing silence, I could hear a door being opened downstairs.
We both walked downstairs and found a wolf standing in the entryway, looking at us. Hunter approached and communicated with the wolf, using a mixture of grunts and body language. They seemed to understand each other perfectly.
“Go to Fierce's car, get her bags, and bring them here,” Hunter ordered the wolf, who nodded in agreement and ran out of the house.
“Do you have your own messengers now?” I asked, looking at Hunter.
He nodded. “I don't know if you noticed, but I'm the Alpha now.”
His words were a reminder that I was back in the world of wolves, a world I had left behind but never forgotten.
Hunter looked at me. “He'll bring your things soon, Fierce. In the meantime, why don't you get settled? I'm sure we have a lot to talk about.”
I agreed, grateful for his generosity, and allowed myself to relax in the spacious living room of the house that now stood in place of the burned hut. As I settled in, I couldn't help but think about how life had taken an unexpected turn. I was back in the pack, in a place that seemed strangely familiar but completely different at the same time. With the past and the present colliding before my eyes, I knew that my history with Hunter was about to unfold, and there was no escaping it.
***
While we waited for the wolf to return with my bags, Hunter went to the kitchen and came back with two beers in hand. He offered me one with a curious look. “Do you still drink?” he asked.
A smile formed on my lips as I took one of the beers he offered. “I haven't had a good beer in over six years,” I admitted. Twisting the bottle in my hands, I opened it with the skill of someone who had done it many times before.
Hunter smiled in approval as he opened his own beer. “Apparently, motherhood has taken many things from you, from what I can see.”
I looked at him with surprise, unsure of what he was insinuating. Hunter approached me, his gaze scrutinizing. He lightly touched the short, brown-dyed strands at shoulder-length of my hair, which replaced the long black hair he used to adore.
"I remember how long your black hair was and how beautiful you looked with it down," he said softly, "but I'm sure the answer is that it's more practical that way with children."
I smiled, acknowledging the accuracy of his observation. I raised my beer toward him, as if to say “Bingo.”
Hunter took a sip of his beer and seemed eager to learn more about my life in the past few years. “How many children do you have?”
I swallowed hard before answering, trying to remain composed. “Three,” I said. “Cassian, Dorian, and Kane.”
Hunter raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Were they born over these years?”
I shook my head, my mind going back to moments of tenderness and joy. “They're triplets.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly curious. “How old are they?”
“They'll turn six tomorrow, on October 31,” I replied, worried about their birthdate. If Hunter did the math, I'd be in trouble.
Hunter smiled, looking intrigued. “They have a birthday on Halloween. That's quite interesting.”
I nodded in agreement. “They love it. It's a double celebration for them, birthday and Halloween on the same day.”
I tensed, waiting for the question I feared would come next. Hunter was perceptive, and he knew we couldn't avoid this topic for long.
He didn't disappoint me. After a sip of beer, he asked, direct and without preamble: “Who is the father of your children?”